


That Damn Party

by nostalgic_breton_girl



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Thalmor Embassy (Elder Scrolls), diplomatic immunity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:54:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28960539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgic_breton_girl/pseuds/nostalgic_breton_girl
Summary: Julienne would rather die than go to a social event, so Delphine has to rethink her plans
Relationships: Female Dovahkiin | Dragonborn/Marcurio
Kudos: 6





	That Damn Party

An impasse: Delphine’s apparently immaculate plan, formed in optimism, set in the best of all possible worlds; and the reality – Julienne, who had nothing of the demeanour of a noblewoman, and who should rather do  _ anything _ except go to a party, and said so quite vehemently. 

‘There must be  _ something _ else,’ said she, quite diminished: ‘I shall  _ die _ of embarrassment.’

‘Would you rather die to hordes of Thalmor soldiers?’ asked Delphine.

‘If I do not have to speak to them first,’ said Julienne, without any semblance of humour.

‘We cannot break into the Embassy. Not with just us. But if we can get you in honestly – and Malborn will assist –’

Then Marcurio, trying to be a reassurance:

‘Official parties like that – they’re not the worst things in the world – I had to go to a few, in the City – damn boring things, but formulaic –’

An impasse broken: quite without meaning to, Delphine listened, listened attentively, looked at Marcurio as if she had never seen him before – which given her fixation upon the Dragonborn, swift dismissal of all but duty, was not impossible. Looked at Marcurio, and said:

‘You’re City elite –’

‘My parents are bootlickers, if that’s what you mean.’

‘But you know how to behave at a party,’ said she, ‘and you have reason to be at this one – we shall not even have to make up a name, or a title –’

Her eyes glowed: quite the contrast to those of Marcurio, which frowned so devastatingly that Julienne almost laughed. 

‘If you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking…’

‘Why  _ must _ it be Julienne?’ Delphine mused: ‘if  _ you _ were to go…’ 

Julienne more light-hearted, a burden from her shoulders; Julienne smiling, following Delphine’s machinations with more approval than she intended; Julienne clutching his hand, and whispering:

‘It will not be so bad – formulaic –’

‘All right,’ said Marcurio – stifled a laugh – quite decided never to be reassuring again: ‘all right. Tell me what I need to do; tell your Malborn there had better be cocktail sausages; and then – if I must – I shall go to your  _ damn _ party.’


End file.
